Dove Broadhall
Dove Broadhall
Halfling
Alidove Quickspell, aka Dove Broadhall, works as lady's maid to the honorable Lady Elinor Sterling. Lady's Maid:A very desirable position, the lady’s maid served the lady or ladies of the house directly and were not under the housekeeper’s control. Generally, each lady living in the house would have a dedicated Lady’s maid, to help her dress, undress and maintain her wardrobe, to do her hair, and generally to look after her in any way that was needed. She might also read aloud or massage her mistress’s temples when she had a headache. Sometimes, two sisters might share a maid. The maid was expected to have sewing / clothing repair skills, cleaning skills, hairdressing skills, skill with cosmetics and more. The Lady’s maid was the top of the hierarchy of maids, with greater privileges, including often receiving her mistresses cast off dresses – which, even when they were ‘too old and unfashionable’ for the Lady, could easily be reworked into higher quality dresses than the maid might ever have otherwise. A lady’s maid was expected to be pretty and personable, and preferably foreign. With the distant Wars happening, howeever, few suitable foreign girls were available. Thus, most ladies of fashion employed Regencian maids and simply called them by foreign names. Companion:
A Companion was employed to keep an older woman, or a single woman, company – this provided a layer of propriety, as well as giving an older widow (for example) someone to talk to, in their daily life. Companions, like governesses, were in that grey area between servant and the nobly born. They were often from good families fallen on hard times, or they were distant cousins from the poor side of the family.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Dove is slightly on the shorter side of halflings, standing at three foot eleven inches tall. She has a slight physique, deft and practiced at keeping quiet.
Facial Features
Big brown eyes take up most of the realestate on Dove's face. She keeps a tight, professional smile on her face most of the time.
Identifying Characteristics
Dove tries her best to remain inconspicuous, but little can be done about her curly red hair. She keeps it tightly braided back into a bun in an effort to tame the unruliness.
Special abilities
Dove has always been haunted by ghosts, though she does her best to avoid eye contact these days.
Apparel & Accessories
The Lady’s Maid, who was often of some social position, usually knew a bit about fashion so they could be of use in advising, dressing, (and mending) their mistress’ clothing. They could wear normal clothing, even castoffs from her mistress.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Alidove Quickspell was born to Wensire and Oragrace Quickspell 31 years ago, their first and only child. Her parents met while both were employed by the royal Shadowby family. Wensire Quickspell was skilled in the arcane and tutored some of the servants whose duties required magic, while Oragrace, who took pride in her cooking abilities, was earning her way up in the kitchens. They married, and Alidove came along very shortly thereafter. Shortly before Alidove’s birth, Wensire was wounded in a magic lesson gone awry. He succumbed to his injuries the next day. Alidove came into the world the day after.
Devastated and overcome with her dual burdens of grief and motherhood, Oragrace shirked her duties and was dismissed from her place in the castle staff. With no family within the city to rely on, Oragrace tried numerous odd jobs over the years, but few employers had patience for her frail constitution and explosive emotional state. When Alidove was almost 5, Oragrace passed from illness. As the medicine men covered Oragrace’s corpse before taking it away, young Alidove beheld her mother quiet and tranquil for the first and last time.
Alidove spent the next few years in the Merciful Hands Home for Orphans within the walls of the Convent of Reformation. Most of her days were filled with slinking around the backstreets of the city with other children from the orphanage, which was a far cry better than staying indoors with the less than merciful nuns.
Gender Identity
Female.
Education
When she became old enough, a scholarship program granted her an opportunity to learn household and lady's maid duties at a nearby academy for girls, setting her on a hopeful path of employment in one of the greater Houses of the city.
Employment
House Frost did in fact take her on as a scullery maid, until one fateful day when she witnessed Lord Frost's extramarital affair with a younger woman. She was dismissed and sent to the islands as punishment for snooping, with certain actions threatened should she ever return to the mainland. She spent some time working amongst the less glamorous villages as governess to a handful of dreadful families. The work was demanding and she was no good at it, so she quietly took her leave one night to catch a boat to the mainland, despite Lord Frost's menacing promises. In the west country, she found the Sterlings, a then-middle class wealthy family who added Dove to their staff happily, albeit unaware of her real name and history.
Morality & Philosophy
Instilled in Dove was the importance of a good work ethic, as well as a clear understanding of the class system in Regencia. The upper class relies on the lower class to run their homes smoothly, and the lower class relies on the upper to provide housing and wages. If one's work is not sufficient, one does not receive one's end of the bargain.
Loyalty is a currency Dove retains only for those in her closest circle.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
Self-preservation is in the forefront of Dove's focus at all times. And within this system, the way one is preserved is by remaining dependable to those who employ you.
Likes & Dislikes
Likes honey in her tea, as well as any sweets.
Loves a good adrenaline rush, especially in the sparring hall.
Dislikes children and fellow lady's maid, Emma Parsons.
Vices & Personality flaws
Tends to run at the first sign of trouble. Hiding and running come naturally to her.
Social
Contacts & Relations
Nathanial and Landry at Heirloom Isaac’s Glorious Antiques
Berig, presumably in the Donlon Underground
Family Ties
She suspects there are Quickspells in the west country but has made no attempt to find them.
Religious Views
The goddesses are fine for people who can afford spirituality. She personally has had enough with the meddling by those who don't live in this realm.
Wealth & Financial state
The Lady’s Maid historically made about £32 (gp) a year (=$3200 today, roughly calculated).
1 yr = 52ish weeks / 32gp per year = 0.62gp per week = 6sp 2cp per week (or 62cp/week).
Halfling companion to Lady Elinor Sterling, residing in Sterling House.
View Character Profile
Alignment
Neutral
Species
Age
31
Birthplace
Shadowby House, Donlon
Children
Current Residence
Estate of House Sterling.
Gender
Female
Eyes
Brown
Hair
Auburn
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Pale
Height
3 ft 1
Aligned Organization
Related Reports
A Journal Entry Dated Sept. 7, 1813
Sept 7, 1814
Dear journal,
Nicholas searched my room tonight, for a voodoo doll (long story), and boy did he leave it a mess. All my things strewn about. He was in a hurry, I guess, but once again I am left to clean up after the nobles.
I started to tuck you back in under my mattress, but felt drawn to you, little journal. (Hopefully I can trust Nicholas to have not read anything. He wouldn’t have, right? Maybe you need a new hiding place. )
I don’t want to write about this, but I need to have it out with myself. Let’s get this over with.
Dominic told me he is in love with me. With everything else going on (and there is so much going on!), I’ve given him almost nothing in response.
There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea. Like I told him, I can’t secure him any advantage in society. I am clearly still a danger to the family, and I’m a terrible influence. I can’t be trusted to play nice in public, and I still forget that whatever decisions I make reflect not just myself but the entire Sterling family. I don’t think I’ll ever fit in, playing the stupid games of society — can you imagine me, bearing heirs and hosting tea parties? Ordering servants around? Making small talk with other nobles? It sounds horrible.
Even with all that aside, I think I’m afraid. My mother gave up and abandoned me to this world, and every thought of her is a constant reminder that I’m not someone worth staying for. Everyone since has left me or forced me out. What if Dominic, too, decides that I’m not enough for him? I’m not sure I could stand knowing his love and then losing it. What I want to do, as always, is keep him at arm's length. He can’t hurt me if I don’t let him in.
But by the goddesses. Don’t I get excited when I see him? Don’t I always find excuses to be near him? If I’m honest with myself, did I try and put that egg on the Brewwick witch’s dress purely for “justice’s” sake — or was I just jealous? Can I sit back and watch Dominic court other women like I told him to do? Do I trust myself not to interfere?
I don’t know if I can. I care for Dominic, and I want him around me. I trust him more than most, and I worry about his safety. Whether that’s love or selfishness, I couldn’t tell you.
He is tall, and handsome, and comforting, and a little strange. He doesn’t feel so beholden to the rules of society like the others do. He is loyal and good. Tonight with Lucy, I got angry and turned on her with my knife, but he stayed calm and comforted her. When he felt useless, he didn’t run away. He stayed and held me when I was upset, even after everything I did in my dark moments. Maybe I need that, his example of goodness. Steadfastness. Light.
But then I’m back at the beginning. I can provide him nothing in return. Do I let him lift me up at the cost of dragging him down? Ugh. Little journal, I thought you would help, but you haven’t helped at all. I’m still confused.
I find myself wishing to talk to Oliver about this. I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance. I wonder what he’d say. (I bet it would start with him telling me to stop taking away all Dominic’s bread. Which is, of course, no fun.)
Dove
PS - I can’t help it – my mind keeps turning to Berig. I hope he is okay. I wonder how involved he was with the events that happened 3 days ago. I’m glad he warned us about the ordeal, but desperately hope it didn’t cost him anything. I should have written something to him.
Target Practice
Sept 3, 1813
Dove exited the carriage and dashed to the nearest washroom inside, heaving what little food she had in her stomach.
In her mind replayed the image of that elf’s head thunking, rolling on the ground. His neck a gaping mess of blood. Davinor’s ghost standing sadly nearby. She’d seen people die before, here and there. She saw the dead every day. She’d expected this execution to be exciting. But the list of charges against the individual began to sound off again in her ear…
High treason…
She could see, standing in the man’s place, an image of Lady Idole, crying pitifully like she had been in the Tower of Gor.
Consorting with those who would seek to destabilize our great kingdom…
Lady Idole shifted into a scary-looking Lord Oliver bathed in the light of the flaming carriage, then flashed again into the shape of Berig, agreeing with Oliver to take down General Zaphyros.
And necromancy.
Now, finally, the image of Oliver became an image of Dove herself. She didn’t know what her abilities were or where they came from, but she knew that speaking with the dead certainly fell under the umbrella of necromancy. What would it be like to be the one standing there, facing a crowd eager to see her violent death?
She had blinked, and the man on the stage… was just a man. An elf. A person, the same as her. Suddenly, this excursion with Oliver was no longer fun.
Dove’s stomach rolled again, bringing her mind back to the present. She heard footsteps in the hall outside the door. Wiping her mouth, she quickly ran out the restroom and up the stairs, her little footsteps echoing on the large entryway walls. She passed Nicholas on the way up, said a hello that she’d hoped was convincingly casual. All she needed was the peace of her room. A boon, this new room was: a space that was all her own, that signified just how much trust and acceptance the Sterling family was placing on her.
Another reminder of how much she owed them.
She was nearly there, when she saw Dominic’s tall frame exiting Elinor’s room.
“Dominic!” she called, noting the way her stomach unknotted a little at seeing her friend. Then she laughed. “What — who tied your cravat? Let me fix that for you.”
Obediently, Dominic knelt down so Dove could reach his neck. She pulled the fabric out of its messy knot and began to retie it. He smelled nice, and she couldn’t help but notice the feel of the stubble under his chin when her fingers brushed it.
“Yeah, I’m a little bit of a mess right now, but only on the outside, I think,” Dominic said cheerfully. “Oh yeah, how did it go yesterday? You just left!”
Dove felt her heart sink, suddenly wishing she’d just stayed at the ball with him. She tucked in the last bit of fabric and took a step back. Last night was Oliver’s secret to share, and being so close to Dominic’s face felt too vulnerable for this next lie.
“Oh! That!” The words started to tumble out of her mouth. “Yeah, it was fine. Oliver’s fine. You know, because Berig thought he heard Oliver’s name, but he must have been wrong because I think Oliver was at the ball the whole time. Didn’t you — see him there—? Maybe—?” And just like that, the nausea returned in full force. This felt terrible, especially when mentioning Bear for some reason. “I’m sorry, I really have to throw up right now.”
She scurried away from Dominic’s bewildered face and slammed the door of her bedroom shut behind her. Slumped against the back of the door, she heard Dominic say, “What’s going on?” followed by Aunt Alice’s booming voice.
All of these lies, all of this conflict inside her — Dove had always rolled her eyes at the ladies who “fainted” from frail womanly constitutions, but she was beginning to think there could be some truth there. She retched. Her whole body felt like death.
She thought of Oliver’s request to find information on Berig. Something the family could use as leverage over him if he ever took a step against the Sterlings. She knew she owed the Sterlings so much, but how could she betray her oldest friend like this? And anyway, it was preposterous, thinking that Berig would do anything so devious. He had always been straightforward. He gave her his word, and that should be enough for the Bear she once knew. “We promised we’d always be honest with each other, remember?” he’d said. And she’d intended to stay true to that.
But now what was she supposed to do? Just ask him straight if there was anything that the Sterlings could hang over his head? Sure, that would go over well.
“I’ll do whatever I have to to keep Dove safe.” She believed him, and it made her eyes all blurry to think about. She had really hoped to be close with her dear Bear again, now that he knew why she’d been gone for so long. Now that he knew about Lord Frost and her brief employment there.
And it hit her. That’s where it all began. It all went back to that icy bastard, that mystery woman, and Dove’s forced exile.
With sudden resolve, Dove shoved the pot back under the bed and lifted the mattress from the bed frame. Underneath was a little stack of papers: the page she’d torn out of Emma Parsons’ book, her journal she’d all but given up on, and some newspaper clippings she’d collected over the years. She flipped through the pile until she found a photo of Lord and Lady Frost printed a few years back. The higher in status the Sterling family had risen, the more nervous Dove had become of bumping into the Marquess of Frost. When the Carousel did an article celebrating his and his wife’s something-eth wedding anniversary, she’d torn out the photo to make sure she’d be able to recognize him in the street. Admittedly, it was an extra precaution, probably overkill. She couldn’t erase him from her mind if she tried.
Using one of her daggers, she pinned Lord Frost’s picture to the wall and stepped back across the room. Yes, that would do. His ugly face would make for perfect target practice.
With every throw of her knives, she could feel her pent up anger releasing. It was hard to blame Oliver for anything, despite the inner turmoil she felt about his request. It was impossible to blame Berig, who had gotten involved out of concern for Dove and her friends. She didn’t know who to blame for all the kidnappings and executions of the nobles. And, at least as far as Berig believed, everyone was to blame for the treatment of the poor she had been so familiar with as a child, and that obviously wasn’t helpful.
But Lord Frost was deserving of every condemnation she could think of.
Thunk!
He was the reason she hadn’t seen Berig for nearly two decades. He was the reason she’d had to live her life with so many secrets.
Thunk!
He was the one who tried to kill her at the beach. Hell, he probably brought on the entire kelpie attack. He was why she couldn’t count on the Sterlings’ safety.
Thunk!
And if he hadn’t been at the ball, maybe she could have been more relaxed and helped Oliver prevent the altercation with the prince! He might even be behind the noble attacks!
The more knives she threw, the more preposterous her accusations of him, the better she felt.
Just before throwing her last dagger, she heard a knock at the door. Quickly, on her tippy toes, she rushed to pull her little weapons out of the wall and shoved the paper of Lord Frost under the mattress again. Goddesses, it stank like vomit in here. That’ll need to be dealt with.
“Uh, coming!”
Slowly she opened the door, sticking her face in the small crack. Above her stood Lucy, Elinor’s new lady’s maid.
“Yes, um, her ladyship asked for you in the next room?” Lucy squeaked.
“Uh, okay, I’ll be right there,” Dove stammered. Too late, she thought of what Elinor might have to say about the knife holes that now adorned the wall. Maybe she had been a little brash. Gods, she was a poor match for this fancy life.
“Shall I get you some tea? Or make your bed?” Lucy had already stepped inside and begun tidying Dove’s room. It felt like a great invasion of her privacy, but Dove supposed this was a battle for another day. And anyway, maybe Lucy would change her mind about cleaning Dove’s room after seeing the contents of the chamber pot.
“Uh, just don’t look under the mattress.”
A Journal Entry dated Sept 1, 1813
Sept 1, 1813
Dear journal,
Can you believe this halfling got to be in the same room as the queen today?
My dress was
I think I
Dominic
This scribbling is useless. I'm gonna go find something to fight.
Until next time,
Dove
A Journal Entry dated Aug 27, 1813
Aug 27, 1813
I’m taking a page from Elinor’s book and attempting to journal. I’ll do a terrible job, I’m sure of it. But maybe it will help me figure things out.
I was so excited about coming back to my Donlon, but I’m afraid it’s much more evil than my younger self remembers. Oliver nearly died today. He and I were attacked in the streets, and he was dragged away from me and beaten inside a sack. Dominic tried to shrug it off when I found him later, and Berig was such an ass all day about it. I should preface by saying I ran into Berig today, an absolute surprise since we haven’t spoken since we were children. Also, I need to work things out with Elinor probably. And to think, today started off in the dreamiest bed at the Blumett estate...
I really am doing this journal all wrong. How does one choose an order to write things in? Everything blends together in the mind.
Elinor is upset with me for, um, “gathering information” on Lady Dahlia. I’m sure the young Miss Blumett is a delight to court, but I wanted to know what a halfling can learn when not being distracted by her dazzling eyes. (That’s a benefit of being so low to the ground — while the Sterlings are right at eye level, liable to be charmed, I can better see how much shit’s on their shoes.) I ended my search with more questions than I started with, but she definitely was lying about working at the Mythical Menagerie. I’m afraid she’s tied to the kelpie attack somehow. And I’m nervous she has some ulterior motives for pursuing Elinor. My lady is incredibly intelligent and capable, but there have been so many attempts on the Sterlings lately — I can’t stomach the thought of the next one being aimed at Elinor.
I am so frustrated with everyone’s lack of concern on this matter. We have been openly attacked twice in just the last few days, and it’s like everyone forgets it but me! I can still feel Lord Daniel Frost’s hands around my neck. His fingers in my mouth and nose. Ice shards cutting down the inside of my throat. Pardon my shaky handwriting, those words were a struggle to put down. That was the most terrifying moment of my life. And tonight was a close second when Oliver walked in, covered in blood and pale as a ghost— I would know. He’s usually so boisterous and unflappable, but he looked… ready to drop. I couldn’t help it — I completely broke form and abandoned my duties to help him, in front of Elinor and her client even. I have to say, this is my first time having a family so many people to care about — is it supposed to be this stressful? What if Lord Nicholas says the wrong thing to someone and becomes the next target? What if it’s more than just Oliver’s fingernails next time? I mean, shit, what would I have done if I’d actually sent Dominic to his death? Goddesses help me, I care about them all so deeply. My lips are chapped from chewing on them all the time. I have some ideas on how to keep track of everyone better, but I may have to sacrifice all of the wages I’ve been saving up. My poor little nest egg…
Um, next up. Berig. My old friend. Bear. Not only is he alive, but he is alive and thriving, thank goodness. The dwarf’s entirely covered in tattoos. It suits him. And he’s taken on the kids left over from Merciful Hands, it sounds like. That also suits him. At least it seems to — again, it’s been twenty years. I don’t know him. I could only hope that he might be alive still, and yet there he was on my first night in the city! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Aino finally took an interest and fated us to meet. Immediately, I ran to hug him, and… it was so nice. I can’t remember the last time someone wrapped me up in their arms like that. I can’t think about it too much because it makes my chest ache. I really, really missed him.
But then, my gods, he opened his mouth and started talking. It ruined everything: he’s such an ass. He was terrible to Dominic, and Dominic was acting weird, and no one was listening to me about Oliver being actively tortured. The city’s having such a strange effect on everyone. Let me tell you, Dominic later came back to Sterling House in an absolute fury like I’ve never seen before. He had brought with him some of Oliver’s clothes that I guess were taken during his “questioning.” I volunteered to wash them so the scullery maids wouldn’t have something to gossip about, and I swear there is more than one person’s blood on it. I’m not sure if I should ask.
(By the way — why do magical people even employ scullery maids? If I have to see one more prestidigitation spell thrown about carelessly in front of me, I might scream.)
Bear was horrible about the Sterlings. It makes sense, though. I know how we grew up. I know what I look like to him now. But it’s all just horseshit. I’m starting to get so tired of this whole social hierarchy. Even though I do need to learn to act the part of a lady’s companion, for Elinor’s sake.
Look at me, writing a journal entry and the whole page is filled with names of friends. Who would have thought.
Ugh, I see I’ve left a smear of Oliver’s blood on the page from my wrist. I need to go wash up again. Try to not vomit this time. I’m just glad I kept my dinner down long enough for Oliver not to see. His poor fingers
Dove
Oh — PS — I need to ask the Sterlings if any of them know a Lady Idol Aidel Idle? I left her on her own in that tower, and I think I’m starting to feel bad about it. Maybe I should find her family like she asked.
PS again - I think I told Dominic today, “You can go fuck your alone time.” That was not very ladylike of me. I can hear Elinor’s voice in my head telling me to apologize to him. So, yeah. This is who I am in Donlon, I guess.
Bear
Twenty one years ago
TWENTY ONE YEARS EARLIER
Alidove slipped into the alleyway and, after checking that no one was there, pulled out the hollowed-out brick that she and her best friend Berig used to store their coins in. The Sisters at the Merciful Hands Home for Orphans preached that children weren’t shrewd enough to possess money or other such precious belongings, so the girls’ and boys’ rooms in the convent were regularly stripped and searched. This brick was Alidove and Berig’s secret hiding place.
“Hurry!” Berig whined. “I’m hungry!”
Alidove stuck her tongue out at him without looking up. “Shut up, I’m counting!” They never had much, but every penny lifted from tourists’ pockets or earned from odd jobs was as good as gold to them. Once, they helped Old Nathanial smuggle some goods through an especially small and long section of the sewer — they had emerged, filthy, into a part of the city they’d never been before, where an extremely well-dressed elf had paid them a whole two silvers. That had given them treats for weeks; it had even been worth the return trip back through the smelly, cramped tunnel.
“Twelve copper. Didn’t we have fourteen yesterday?”
Berig tugged one of his huge ears, a tell-tale sign of nervous dishonesty. “Uh, pretty sure it was just twelve?”
“You troll!” Alidove shoved the copper pieces in his hands and replaced the brick in the wall. “What did you spend it on?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about the baked apples at the Parisol!” He put his hands up to shield himself from the look Dove gave him. “Come on, I’m always still hungry after dinner, they never feed us enough!”
Dove shoved him against the wall, and he had the good grace to look sheepish. “Well now you owe me one for not sharing!”
“Uh, I owe you two.”
“Two what?”
Berig winced. “Two baked apples. It was late and they were closing up shop, so they gave me two for the price of one.”
“And you ate them both without even sharing.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re the worst!”
“I know.”
As if on cue, his stomach growled. Dove rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Let’s go fix your dumb troll belly.”
The two children exited the alleyway and darted through the bustling crowds toward the market stalls. On busy days like this, they liked to play their game of chase, where whoever was in front would try to lose the other. As a dwarf and a halfling, they were both already quite small for children. They were very good at slipping through the crowds, although Alidove was much lighter on her feet than Berig was. This time he nearly managed to give her the slip, but she knew where he was headed — the biggest pastry stall. She caught him staring, drooling almost, at the giant honey buns. They didn’t actually buy them often — being on the more expensive side, it was easier to wait until dark and steal them. Thinking anxiously of the news she had to break today, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little extra on their favorite treats.
“Two of the honey buns, please?”
Shortly after, they were tucked into a little alley munching happily on the large, sticky pastries. It wasn’t long before Bear, despite a mouth full of food, couldn’t help but talk.
“I’ve decided I’m going to learn magic one day.”
Alidove scoffed.
“It’s true! August said I’m smart enough to learn since we caught on to thieves cant so fast. One day I’ll learn magic, and I’ll cast big spells and fight giant monsters all over Regencia, and my family will hear about it and findme and take me in. I’ll bet you I’m secretly related to the Bouldertons, just you wait and see.”
“You’re dreaming.” She rolled her eyes at this familiar mention of the Boulderton family fantasy, and tore another little piece off her honey bun.
“I’ll show up at their door turning rocks into butterflies or whatever, and they’ll say ‘Berig, you’re a natural, please can you come and live with us, dear cousin, now that we’ve found you?’ And I’ll say sure, but only after you see what it’s like where we don’t have money. I’ll show ‘em how easy it is to eat with just one fork! No stupid etiquette rules, just pure eating. And they’ll treat me to lamb and porkchops and stew filled with —“
“Bear, shut up.”
“No, I could win them over on the fork thing. All I’d have to say is —“
“Shadows!” Alidove hissed and pointed to where a Shadowcloak guard stood just a few yards away in the street, her back towards the alleyway they were in.
Immediately, Berig the Talkative became Berig the Silent. His face became deadly serious, and there was already a knife in his hand, the little one he’d bargained for during an underground thieves’ guild meeting of some sort. Alidove pulled out her own, an altered kitchen knife her mother had used all the way back when she worked in the Shadowby kitchens. Berig stepped back, flattening Alidove against the wall behind him with his thick arms. She hated when he did this, as if she couldn’t handle herself if the guard saw them in the alley. But Berig had always imagined himself the hero, and now wasn’t the time for arguing.
Alidove’s heart was pounding. At only twelve years old, her friend had already caught the attention of the guards, albeit only recently. He got a bit too greedy at the fruit carts a few weeks back, and somehow word must have gotten out that a little dwarven boy with mismatched eyes had sticky fingers. They’d had to run from a few different Shadowcloaks in the area since then, and very nearly got caught once. Alidove had seen what the kids looked like exiting the workhouses in the late evening, all covered in soot and dead in the eyes. She couldn’t imagine Berig, so boisterous and full of life, being arrested and sentenced to work there. Whatever they did to those kids inside, she knew his free spirit wouldn’t survive. As quietly as she could, she took a deep breath to steady herself, smelling the faint scent of lye on her friend’s clothes and the ever-present dirt in his hair. These familiar smells of childhood helped steady her. She put a comforting hand on Berig’s shoulder, willing him not to do anything brash. His body relaxed a bit, and he put his hand on hers to squeeze it back.
Miraculously, the guard stepped out of sight without once glancing toward them. The two children breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly feeling very exposed, they snuck deeper into the alleyway and resumed nibbling their pastries.
Berig shoved a last big bite into his mouth. After a moment, he said quietly, “You know, Toby said the Quickfingers don’t mind so much about the fruit stealing thing anymore. They said if the Shadows have been looking for me this whole time and I still haven’t been caught yet, then I gotta be pretty smart. I think they’re gonna let me join ‘em soon.”
It was starting. They were talking about the future. Alidove swallowed. “How soon?”
“Pretty soon. Once the Shadows forget about me and everything settles down.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in quiet for a bit, not looking each other in the eye.
Bear broke the silence. “Then we can finally get out of Merciful Hands.”
“We?” Alidove asked, wondering what he knew about her news.
“Yeah. I told them you’re joining with me, of course.”
Alidove froze. “You told Toby that?”
“Yeah, I mean pretty much. Or I’m going to tell him. I’m working on it. Because obviously I’m not leaving Merciful Hands without you, Dove.”
Alidove met Berig’s eyes, the one blue and the one brown. “You’re not?”
“What?” Berig furrowed his brow. “Did you think I was gonna leave you there all by yourself?”
“Well… maybe.” It’s what had always happened. Her father, her mother, so naturally Berig would leave too. She had been betting on it.
“That’s crazy. I wouldn’t. You know that.”
Alidove shuffled uncomfortably. “Oh.”
“It’s always going to be you and me. The Quickfingers will see how quick you are and how good you are at stuff. They just gotta see you pick one lock and they’ll want you in –”
“I can’t, Bear.”
“You can, and you’re coming with me to the Bouldertons one day, too, or wherever I go. Always together. When we’re older, I’ll say we’re married and you’re a part of the family just as much as me, and we can spend our days fat and rich like the royals, making all the servants cook us the best treats –”
The mention of servants was too much. “Berig, I got the Girls’ Academy scholarship.”
Now, Berig was quiet. “The what?”
“The servant school? The school for girls to learn to become maids?” Alidove searched Berig’s face for any sort of recognition. “Sister Mary Evina talked to me about it and she helped me put my name in and they picked me for the scholarship program.”
“That thing the Sisters have been jabbering on about?” Berig asked incredulously. “You gotta be kidding.”
This was about the response she expected. But she carried on, “I’m not kidding. I’m gonna learn how to be a lady’s maid. Or a scullery maid, or a housemaid, or something.” Berig was still staring at her. “I found out this morning I got in. And nobody’s got to pay for it because the Frosts already paid for everything as a charity thing, and they must have liked me or recognized my name or something and got the school to accept me in.”
Berig’s jaw hardened. The Quickspell family name was not prestigious by any means, but everyone in the orphanage knew that Alidove’s dad had taught magic at the castle – or so Dove had been told. She’d never had the fortune of meeting him, what with him dying the day before she was born and all. But Berig hadn’t even found out who his dad was before his mom died, and that was a sore topic for him.
Wincing, Alidove carried on. “I didn’t want to do it without telling you first, but you know Sister Mary Evina. She’s old and mean and pushy! She wanted me to get it done fast so I could go ahead and go before the school year starts–”
“What? When?”
“Next month. The sixteenth, I think.”
“Dove!”
“We still have a whole month!”
“Just a month? We’re supposed to have forever!” Berig cried.
“We can! I’ll still be in the city, and when I get a good job I can –”
“ – You can spend all day dusting some hoity toity’s mantle and I’ll get to see you twice a year on your only days off.”
“No, it’s not like that all the time!”
“Alidove, you’re a halfling and an orphan, what kind of house do you think will want you?”
She bristled at that. “Any house I want, because I’ll be good at being a maid. I’ll make sure of it.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“I don’t care, it was mean.”
“You know what’s mean? I’ve been working on Toby this whole time, trying to get you into a guild with me, and you’re going to go off and sell away everything you are to some aristocrat who won't even like you.”
“The Quickfingers don’t like you! They’re gross and mean, too.”
“They do too like me! And at least I’ll get to do stuff that actually matters!”
“Yeah? Like stealing stuff?”
“Like adventures. Like having fun. Like not working for some awful rich people.”
Alidove put her hands on her hips. “Being a maid is honorable work,” she said, parroting Sister Mary Evina’s words about the school.
“No it’s not.”
“Yeah huh. Everyone says so!”
“Who cares what everyone says if we’re not together.”
Alidove’s attitude withered away at that. She blinked away the tears she could feel forming in her eyes. “We still can be together.”
“Now you’re dreaming.”
Alidove felt miserable. “Bear, I don’t wanna live on the streets and hide and be scared of people forever. I just – I just want a safe home and a good job. I don’t want to be a criminal.” She took a long, shaky breath.
Now it was his turn to be offended. He turned away and crossed his arms. “You need to finish your bun.”
There was plenty left, but suddenly Alidove felt nauseous. “I’ll save it for later.”
“You eat like a bird.”
“Well,” Alidove muttered, “you eat like an animal.”
It felt like an attempt at a truce, their usual lines to each other. But something was still wrong. Their friendship felt broken, somehow.
“We still have a month,” Dove offered hopefully, as they stood up to go.
“A month to change your mind,” she heard Berig mumble to himself.
***
But he could not change her mind. She noticed him sneaking out without her more and more to meet up with Toby, the pimpled teenage half-elf whose little gang Berig wanted to join. She knew there was no way they’d let a ten year old girl join their ranks, no matter how much Berig talked her up. Berig himself was pushing it by trying to join at twelve. The Quickfingers were not a real guild by any means, but they took themselves as seriously as a gang of young street rats could. Even if they couldn’t calm him down like she could, they’d keep Berig from starving to death. He could find better groups as he got older. Alidove always knew she’d have to let him go sooner or later, as much as her heart ached to think of it. Berig was her best friend. And she would always be his, but she just couldn’t say no to this opportunity. A chance to do it all the right way and correct everything her mother messed up? He had to see what this meant to her. He had to know this was her best possible option.
They agreed to send messages through the hidden brick in the wall. Alidove even convinced Hilda, the other halfling girl in Merciful Hands, to place any mailed correspondence in the brick for her, should Alidove be unable to place letters in the brick on her own. Berig seemed resigned to it every time she brought it up, and would usually run off on his own afterwards, making some excuse, to hide his grief. She eventually learned to avoid the conversation altogether, but still, she felt like he was pulling away already.
The last night before she left, Alidove woke to a tap on the window just near her bed. She raised the pane, the one she kept greased up so as not to wake the other girls in the room when she snuck out.
It was Bear. It had been unusually long since she’d seen him last, a few days at least. His face was drawn tight and he couldn’t meet her gaze. Silently, Alidove pulled herself through the window and shut it behind her. Berig cleared his throat and kicked the ground. “One last look over the river together?”
Alidove nodded, trying to hide how happy she was that he was here.
They snuck through the dark streets to the secret tunnel that led out of the city. They emerged on the other side of the River Gate and perched themselves in their usual tree looking over the rushing waters.
Berig was abnormally quiet. With a glance at his face, Alidove saw tears carving a path down his dirty cheeks.
“I don’t want you to go, Dove.”
She looped her fingers through his and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “I know.”
And that’s how they sat until the sun rose: hand in hand, leaning on each other, not saying a word.
When they arrived back at her window, Berig handed her a small bag. Within was a little chain with a seaglass charm hanging from it, and one slightly smushed baked apple treat. “It’s for the road,” he said apologetically. “I only got one, but I figured the necklace can make up for the other one I owe you.” She nodded and put the necklace on. Her eyes were finally threatening to spill over with tears, but she swallowed her grief back down.
“Wait.” She darted inside, ignoring the handful of orphan girls grumbling at her for rousing them. From her packed bag, she pulled out her mother’s little knife and ran back to the window. She held it out to Berig. “I wanna give you this. They’d probably just take it from me anyway.”
He picked it up, a sad, thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’ll hang on to it for you.” Then, a bit of his goofy, lopsided grin leaked onto his face. “Whatever snobby old hoity toities you end up working for… give them hell for me, will you?”
Dove smiled. “I’m sure I can find a way.”
***
The Academy was much stricter than the orphanage, and much more liable to punish even minor infractions. Alidove learned that sneaking out was nearly impossible, and so she saw Berig once every other month or so on the girls’ trips around town for special events. She always let him know when she’d be out and about in the city, and he always showed up, stealing her away for an hour or two. When she was hired on as a housemaid for the Frosts’, as well, the two friends tried to keep the same pattern: meeting briefly during her rare days off. They did write letters back and forth, and Alidove tried not to notice the word counts shrinking more and more.
The last time they saw each other, Dove was thirteen and Berig was fifteen. He had begun to grow into his stockiness a bit more, and proudly pointed out his whiskers to anyone who’d listen. Alidove herself remained slight, though she’d argue that she’d put on several inches.
On this last day, the two were killing time, tossing pebbles in the river from the bridge. Dove glanced up at him, his one blue and one brown eye, with some mysterious cut on his eyebrow just starting to heal into a bright pink scar. An ache unfolded in her heart at the sight of this cut. She used to know every story of his, where every little scrape had come from, because she’d always been right alongside him, earning bumps and scratches of her own. But now, familiar as he always would be, he seemed unknowable.
“—and you should have seen the look in her eye, Dove, once she realized we’d taken back her keys! I nearly blew my cover, I was laughing so hard. She spent ages looking for them. It was such a grand time, I wish you could have been there.” He tugged at his ear absentmindedly, staring off.
“If I’d been there, you wouldn’t have gotten the chance to brag about yourself to me through that whole story,” Alidove responded wryly.
“Nah, I’d still find a way to brag.” Berig looked down at her now, smiling to himself. “Any grand stories of your own to share, though? I’m tired of talking.”
Alidove rolled her eyes. “Yeah right.”
“No, truly. Tell me about you. How are those icy bastards treating you over there?”
“Be nice! They’re my employers.” Now Berig rolled his eyes. “No, they’re fine. Not much to talk about.” She thought of her early mornings starting fires, and her late nights cleaning those same fireplaces of their soot, and all of the repetitive tasks she did daily in between.
“Living the life of your dreams then, eh?”
“Just like I always wanted,” she sighed wearily. “But it’s good. It’s honorable work. Little Lord Latham is everywhere at this age, so thank goodness I’m not his nanny. He gets in my way enough as it is and I’m not in charge of him. And of course everyone is thrilled over Lord David’s engagement to the Shadowby Princess.”
“But what about you, Dove? How are you?”
She considered that for a moment. It wasn’t often she was asked this. There was that strange figure she saw the other night, smallish and floating around the corner… She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Ghost stories had no effect on her in the bright sunlit day. She was sure it was nothing.
His face looked so expectant and warm, that lopsided smile of his crinkling his eyes. See? He still cared about her like he did when they were kids. And no matter how long they were apart, they always feel right back into a rhythm together. They would always be here for each other.
Alidove tugged habitually on the sea glass necklace she always wore around her neck, and answered him with honesty. “I’m good. Thank you for asking.”
***
It was six days later that Alidove found herself forced onto a ship to the northern islands, far away from Donlon, and far away from the only soul she’d ever loved. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye.
Zennias
Aug 26, 1813 RG
Dove slumped down on one of the two small beds in her shared room. Glenn was absent, probably catching up to her duties after an afternoon plagued by allergies. Dove looked wistfully at the small vase of zennias she’d arranged next to her bed — she’d actually enjoyed speaking with the gardener about the different kinds of flowers and their meanings, and had asked for these specifically to commemorate their stay at the Blumetts’ estate. With a sigh, she took the flowers from the vase and dumped them into a small bin, which she then placed outside the door. It was clear that any type of flower could not coexist with Glenn’s fragile sinuses. She would dispose of them in the morning.
The day’s antics were an absolute thrill. She had Dominic’s poor dead duck tied to the underside of one of the Sterling carriages for now, a task which had been disturbingly supervised by the spirit of that same duck. This, of course, only was accomplished after spending an eternity listening to Lady Ruby jabber on and on about her figure, about Dominic, about the season’s fashions and her superficial aspirations, all while commanding Dove to play with different variations of hairstyles and outfit changes. The only thing that got Dove through the evening was the thought of Dominic’s face when Ruby would inevitably come to assault him in a horrid green dress, complaining about sports and nagging him to take her on as his trophy wife. She really hoped Ruby would try to fence with him and embarrass them both terribly. Maybe she could even convince Honey to fly up and startle Ruby mid-match. That would be hilarious.
Yes, it had been a late night. But just one more day of the Blumetts, and then Donlon. She thought she’d never get to return, and even then, she could never have imagined she’d greet the city with protection -- and even friends -- alongside her. Things had seemed bleak for so long — life often felt like one of the tight rope acts she'd seen in the city as a child, and she was certain that sooner or later it would all come crashing down on her. But now, things were looking up extraordinarily, and she could not believe her good fortune. Somehow she was headed back to the city that raised her. The city where she’d last tasted happiness, where she’d last seen Bear, last explored the hidden tunnels under the streets. She envisioned the bright, enticing world of her childhood: sweet-smelling stalls of baked goods, bursting pockets just begging to be picked, plenty of unknown spaces to discover like she used to with her old friend.
Dove couldn’t help but smile. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing, but even the tiniest chance of bumping into Berig “Bear” the Brave was enough to fill her with excitement.
She drifted off to sleep, dreaming happily of ducks, and of bees, and of a great friendly grizzly with wide welcoming arms.
Mending
Aug 18, 1813 RG
It was an exhausting carriage ride home, but Dove hadn’t yet considered how exhausting the coming night would also be. She arrived to the estate ahead of most of the other lady’s maids with the Sterling lords and lady. Once the carriage had stopped, she slipped out before the rest of the party and slunk away to her chambers. Her black dress had begun to dry at the edges, but most of her was still sopping wet and freezing. She took out the contents of her pockets, pockets she had painstakingly altered so she could carry more beneath her petticoats than anyone would suspect. Needles, thread, various small vials and pouches with mixtures for eliminating dyes, nearly all ruined by the brackish seawater… That seawater that lapped around her torso when she waded toward Glenn and Dominic. And then, suddenly, it seemed as though hands were on her mouth again, colder even than the sea...
…and she was pulled under the water. She realized with horror that these hands were not kelpie tendrils, but human hands. Strong and large and impossibly cold, over her nostrils and mouth. A bitter ache burst into her head as shards of ice shoved their way into her nasal cavities. Invisible fingers pushed past her lips, pressing against her teeth. Dove tried to bite down on them, but before she could, a blast of pain shot through her entire body, born from the ice filling the space around her tongue, down her throat. It was too late to scream. Expending the last breath held in her lungs to yell was, terrifyingly, impossible. She would die here, alone…
…and alone she was, but comfortingly, in her room. Not in the sea. Not in the deathly grip of the man whose presence had loomed over her since she was a child. She continued to empty out her pockets, more quickly now, and then ripped off her clothes, leaving them in a soggy heap in the floor. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as she searched for a suitable replacement. She pulled on a gray, unremarkable dress and tied her second favorite apron (her favorite apron now presumably lost to the waters earlier that day). Once she was fully clothed, she dared a peek in the mirror. She looked battered and ghastly. Like she had seen a ghost.
The wails of the newly dead flew over her once more, filling her mind, her ears, and down the rest of her body, bringing attention to the life it held there. She felt a new ghostly hand, almost warm this time in comparison to the frigid water and her captor’s touch, caress hers. It then seemed to reach inside her chest and touch the convulsing muscles around her lungs. The feeling was bizarre, but not entirely unpleasant. Moreover, the desperate need to suck in a breath was gone. Her body relaxed. She wasn’t dead, she didn’t think, but somehow, she no longer needed air. The frozen hands clamped harder over her mouth and nose, and she decided to let her assailant think her stillness was brought on by unconsciousness. She saw the dark silhouette of Lord Dominic swimming up to her with his sword drawn. A stabbing motion, and blood began to fill the water above her right temple. She could feel the warmth of it in her hair. Red was the last color she saw before she allowed her eyes to close.
She examined her hair, concluding that a quick fix was impossible. Only one or two chunks of seaweed came out of her hair pins without a fight. She gave up on the rest and wrapped a bonnet over the tangled mess, tucking bits of salty hair back underneath the edge of the cap. With a shaky breath, she steeled herself to resume her lady’s maid duties. Lady Elinor was blessedly simple to look after, but she still had items that needed unpacking, and the house will surely be in an uproar. Glenn will be needing help, and Mrs. Todd was already rousing some of the other girls to brew some healing soup. As much as Dove wanted to stay in her room and hide, the group in the carriage had decided that she carry on as usual. So carry on she went.
It was two and a half hours before Dove finally returned to her bedroom and collapsed into the bed. She didn’t always sleep well, but tonight she didn’t even have time to remove her boots before unconsciousness overtook her.
And she was under the sea again, walking this time. Walking along the bottom of the ocean. She had never learned how to swim, but as it turns out, she didn't really need to swim if she wasn't afraid of drowning. It took ages, but she finally emerged on the north side of the beach. A rocky outcropping blocked her view of the tents and people… the bodies and blood… the man who tried to kill her. Nimbly, and numbly, she darted along the rocks up toward the carriages, as Lord Oliver had directed. Lord Dominic, fighting her unseen attacker. Lord Oliver, offering her his entire carriage. When did Lords do such things for lady's maids? Would they still have done them if they knew who she was?
They’ll know soon enough, she supposed.
Dove’s eyes cracked open, crusty from the unwashed seawater. She felt fully rested, but parts of her body ached. What time was it? The sky was still a disorienting shade of black outside her window. Had she slept a full 24 hours? Why had no one woken her up?
She reached for a small pocket watch that had somehow survived the water. It read 3:00… in the morning? She must have only slept a couple of hours somehow.
Either way, she was fully awake. She decided that first things first – she needed a wash.
In another hour, Dove had re-pinned her freshly washed hair and donned another dull gray dress. She held in her hands her least favorite apron – the one with the pocket that always developed a hole, no matter how she mended it – and examined it closely. Suddenly, a new stitch that she could try came into her mind. She had the time now, it seemed, so she sat on her bed in a very unladylike manner and threaded her needle. She soon found that the careful monotony of the stitching allowed her mind to wander back to the carriage ride last night.
“We could adopt her.”
“What? How?” Lady Elinor’s voice sounded incredulous, and rightly so.
“Alice or I could adopt her into the family. She’d be a real Sterling, then, and no one would be allowed to lay a hand on her.” Lord Oliver leaned back, hands behind his head, as if it was no small matter to adopt her. Not one middle or lower class family who visited the orphanage had thought she was good enough for them – so she couldn’t fathom why His Lordship was suggesting bringing her into a wealthy, gentrified, noble House of Regencia.
“Dove… How old are you?” Dominic asked.
“I’m thirty one,” her quiet voice replied, sounding distant to her ears. “I know I’m little, but I’m not a child.”
Dominic looked back at his uncle and cousin. “She’s older than me and Elinor. Is it even possible to adopt a full grown adult?”
“We could look into it,” Lady Elinor mused. “I may have some connections I could ask about –” she murmured at the same time as Dominic said, "I know some people in government --"
“We could marry her off to Aunt Alice!” Oliver interjected cheerfully, before the two could begin a squabble.
Dominic scoffed. “Mother would never hear of it.”
“Then we could marry her off to you, Dominic. Your mother wouldn’t give a rat’s ass who you marry.” A wry tone leaked into Elinor's voice.
Dove sank even lower down in her seat.
So somehow, upon hearing that Dove had lied about her resume and tricked her way onto their staff, these three members of the Sterling family had decided to try and protect her, instead of dismissing her summarily. Her mind reeled at the thought of it. It simply wasn’t the way of things. The upper class relied on the lower class to run their homes smoothly, and the lower class relied on the upper to provide housing and wages. If your work is not sufficient, you do not receive your end of the bargain. And Dove had not only been dishonest, but also dangerous to the family. By all accounts, she should be imprisoned, or at the very least, turned out onto the streets. It had happened before and it was always going to happen again. She'd just been biding her time.
But it wasn’t happening again. Instead, the upper class was being… kind? It made sense for the Sterling family, she supposed. They were all kind, even Dominic in his own way. But never had she guessed they would risk their reputations -- and possibly their lives? -- for... for her? She knew the whole situation was much larger than that, but it felt impossible to accept this new upside down way of thinking. Her instinct was to run. There had to be some way they were taking advantage of her.
And maybe they were. Talking about her future while she was sitting right there, as if she were a doll to be auctioned off. They hadn’t asked her once what she wanted. Who she’d prefer to marry or what station in life she’d like to occupy. She was, still at the core of it all, a servant. A member of the staff. Not family, even if they said otherwise.
She would go to Dominic. They had always been straight with each other. Although she used a different name, she was always authentically herself with Dominic, and she believed he was the same with her. So, he would be straight with her. They both knew he'd be ruined if he were forced to marry a lady’s maid. His ambitions wouldn’t allow it. Same with Aunt Alice. And Dominic would surely tell Dove if her presence was too much of a risk to the family. He would tell her it would be best if she left.
She’d never asked permission from an employer to leave them before.
She’d never had a friend like Dominic before, though, either.
“Are you a danger to the family?” That had been his first question. And it had been the right one. He was the only one seeing any sense in this situation, and she would thank him for his friendship, and she would leave.
You didn't leave before, though. You stayed behind for Glenn.
It was a voice, but it wasn’t a voice. Much like the idea of the new stitch for her apron, which was nearly done now, this voice came in her head like a thought, but a thought from without. From someone else, probably someone here in this room that she refused to look at. She didn’t want to see anyone like them anymore, not since she unwittingly followed that spectral lady into Lord Frost’s chambers. That was when all the trouble had began. She would carry on avoiding trouble from these ghosts.
But the voice was right. She nearly abandoned the beach when the kelpie showed up, but she had gone back for Glenn. And it felt… good? To stay with the people she knew and to try and help them. It had gone abysmally… she still owed so much to poor Glenn. But it had resulted in three members of House Sterling pledging to keep her safe. She would never have known they felt that way about her if she had run off when she had the chance.
She tied the last thread on her apron, and then picked up the musty black dress from the floor where she had left it the previous night. It was still damp in places, and bore several holes from the previous night’s events. It desperately needed laundering, but since she had her needle and thread out already, she figured she might as well locate some of the smaller rips in the fabric and mend them now.
As Dove’s little hands secured a section of the dress into a mending hoop, Lady Elinor came to mind. Her Lady. Being lady's maid to Elinor Sterling was the best job she’d ever had, in station as well as in experience. Elinor was generous, and reliable, and good. She’d never known anyone as admirable as her. Dove was convinced that if she ever met the Queen, Her Royal Majesty wouldn’t be half as honorable as the character that Elinor carried.
Dove knew she had distanced herself from Elinor purposefully. She could feel Elinor’s loneliness like a gaping chasm since her brother and father’s deaths. There were many moments where Dove recognized that Elinor needed a friend more than a maid, but Dove had been too protective of her secrets to bridge that gap. It had been a constant wrestle between self preservation and connection, but as usual, self preservation won out.
And now that the truth is known, Dove wondered if she could already feel a sense of betrayal coming from Elinor. The thought of adding more to her Lady's sorrow hurt, much like Lord Frost’s boots pounding her into the ground under the water. If Dove chose not to leave right away, perhaps she could… What – say sorry? Make it up to her somehow? Become best friends with her ladyship and everyone would forget that Dove has lied to her for her entire employment here?
But again, Elinor hadn’t dismissed her right away, much to Dove’s amazement. That spoke more about Elinor’s trust in her lady’s maid than Dove wanted to think about. Maybe all it would take is a little trust back in Elinor's direction. Maybe.
Well. At the very least, she could talk to Elinor to make sure no one actually had any intentions of marrying her off to the first available Sterling. Her Ladyship would hear her, and understand.
Dove finished mending the first tear, and she felt, from that same place that the thoughts came, a comforting hand squeeze her shoulder. She closed her eyes, and leaned into it.
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